52 pages • 1 hour read
Nadia HashimiA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Trauma is the body’s response to a situation or event that a person experiences as harmful and life-threatening. Consequences of such an event may include shock, denial, and lasting impacts on physical, mental, emotional, and even spiritual well-being. Sitara experiences trauma when she survives the Saur Revolution after witnessing the murder of her family, and the effects of this traumatic stress linger into her adolescence and adulthood in the form of anxiety, migraines, and sleep disruption. The ongoing grief she feels over the sudden and violent loss of her family, friends, home, and safety, as well as the guilt Aryana feels over surviving, complicate her trauma, which is triggered by the sight of soldiers or men in uniform and makes her wary of confiding in and reluctant to trust people she does not know. Grief and trauma can be healed if dealt with appropriately, and Aryana’s character arc in the novel involves confronting and expressing the hurt she has carried for 30 years.
Near the end of the novel, Aryana realizes that she has metaphorically buried her family by not speaking of them. Like the ring from Ai-Khanoum she keeps in her jewelry box, she has kept memories of her family hidden, as if a shameful secret, and has thus denied them a presence in her life. Antonia thinks she is sparing Aryana pain by not asking about the family she lost. Yet when Aryana acknowledges that she might be hurting Antonia by speaking of Tilly, Antonia realizes, “we’re so damned afraid that talking about the ones we’ve lost will hurt as much as losing them did. So we just stop talking about them. But that’s when we truly lose them” (405). Aryana’s realization that she needs, for her own health, to acknowledge the importance of her family in her life is the first step in the process of symbolically resurrecting them, which is completed by the physical discovery of their graves. When she discovers their bodies, Aryana feels that she is getting her family back both spiritually and materially, in the form of remains she can bury, mark with a gravestone, and mourn in conventional rituals that are designed to express grief in ways that support emotional healing.
An ongoing irony is that Aryana, as a doctor, supports her own patients in a healing process. She does not think of fighting cancer as a battle so much as a process with certain odds, but while she has built a career out of helping people identify and fight their pain, she needs to learn to address her own emotional wounds. Shair is the catalyst for this confrontation. Seeing him again is a shock, mirroring the shock she experienced for several weeks after the Revolution. That shock manifested physically in her beginning menstruation—a sign that her childhood innocence has ended—and the fever she developed from the cut in her foot that mirrored her emotional wounds. Aryana has experienced symptoms of ongoing trauma throughout her adult life, including migraines, but she does not begin to put them in the context of her trauma until after she meets Shair again. After Shair shows her his son’s grave, and Aryana understands that he, too, has grieved and suffered the loss of family members, she is better able to confront her own guilt and grief. Returning the ring to Afghanistan becomes a symbolic gesture to return and restore the part of herself that is Sitara, the little Afghan girl who lost her family. Restoring the ring to its proper place helps Aryana put her painful past in perspective and understand herself in a new way, in relationship to a recovering Afghanistan. This prepares her emotionally to exhume her past, reconcile with her family, and appropriately grieve their deaths in ways that can help her heal and become open to loving again.
Part of what adds to the trauma that is elsewhere a theme in the novel is the historical context of Afghanistan as a country that has found itself at the center of violent imperial conflict throughout its existence. Hashimi weaves a noble yet tragic history for this part of the world, which complicates Aryana’s sense of belonging after she, as Sitara, is torn away from the world she knew. Though the novel focuses on Sitara/Aryana’s personal trauma and healing, Hashimi grounds her protagonist’s experiences in the history of imperial conquest and exploitation, illustrating the ways geopolitical conflicts affect the lives of individual human lives.
Much of young Sitara’s understanding of her country’s past comes from tales told by her father and from spending time in the presidential palace of Arg. Her father reads to Sitara from the Shahnameh, the Book of Kings, an epic poem composed at the end of the tenth century CE that relates Persian myth and history. In addition to lyrics from popular contemporary music and samples of the culture of Afghanistan before the imposition of civil war and Islamic law, her father also recites the poetry of Jalāl al-Dīn al-Rūmī (c. 1207-1273 CE), a Persian theologian and scholar best remembered for his mystical poetry. This poetry serves an artifact of the beautiful and enduring culture of Persia, now Iran. The book of astronomy that Sitara reads in the opening chapter, the Arabic Book of Fixed Stars written around 964 CE, is based on the Almagest of Ptolemy, an influential Greek scholar who lived in Egypt in the second century CE, hinting at the centuries of Arabic scholarship that moved forward the fields of mathematics and science and contributed to the European Enlightenment.
The excavations at Ai-Khanoum, which took place throughout the 1970s, uncovered the importance of the town to the Bactrian Greek empire that survived after Alexander the Great had brought Afghanistan under his rule, and the ring that Sitara takes, like the town itself, exhibits a blend of native and Hellenistic Greek cultures. The fall of this vibrant seat of civilization becomes a metaphor and foreshadowing for the fall of the cultured, sophisticated, modernizing Afghanistan that Sitara was born into, where women wore Western fashions, young men like Sitara’s father gained educations abroad to bring new knowledge back to their country, and roads and other improvements enabled economic advancement. The ring symbolizes Sitara’s connection to her family and her birthplace, but it also symbolizes Afghanistan’s contributions to culture, art, and knowledge that are too often obscured by the way outsiders have intervened in its politics and history.
Hashimi hints at continued efforts by outsiders to seize power in Afghanistan, beginning by referencing the 19th-century British invasion through a Rudyard Kipling poem that Sitara works into her prize-winning fourth-grade essay. This incursion of the British Empire is a forerunner of the efforts by the 20th-century superpowers, the United States and the Soviet Union, to make Afghanistan an ally. Sitara’s father and later Clay argue that to the US and USSR, Afghanistan was a carcass they fought over during the Cold War, the hostile ideological conflict that arose from the US’s efforts to stop the spread of communism. (The Vietnam War, also mentioned in the novel, was likewise a war the US fought to attempt to limit the adoption of communism in Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia; Hashimi alludes to this conflict to further underline the devastating costs of these ideological wars on the countries and peoples that became pawns of European powers.) The image of her father and President Daoud standing beneath the tapestry depicting a game of buzkashi is a metaphor for how the Afghan government is being fought over by foreign nations the way the teams of buzkashi players fight to claim the goat carcass in the game. The US and USSR treated the Afghan people as pawns in their geopolitical chess match, but the effects of their actions on the actual Afghan people were real and devastating.
The impact Aryana feels from 9/11 in New York City illustrates another toll of ideological conflict, this time the conflict between Islamic jihadists who believe they are helping to stop the spread of Western imperialism and the anti-Muslim prejudices harbored by many in the West and fostered by US foreign policy. Once again, the individual human being, Aryana, suffers the repercussions of global ideological war. Yet the notes of modernization and rebuilding that Aryana sees taking place in Kabul when she returns exemplify the resilience of the human spirit, a mirror and metaphor for the healing that Aryana undergoes. Hashimi suggests that Afghan people have survived the rise and fall of empires, have resisted outside invasion before, and have rebuilt time and again. While the wounds and scars of the recent wars run deep, she conveys a sense of optimism—captured in the image of the maternity hospital—that Afghanistan can be reborn from the rubble.
Sparks Like Stars follows a protagonist who splits her identity into two—the child who grew up in Afghanistan and the adult who lives in the US—and then learns to reintegrate them into a whole. Through Sitara/Aryana’s story, the novel explores how a person understands their own identity, what marks their identity in the eyes of others, and how to reconcile the two.
Sitara undergoes a substantial rift in her sense of identity when she loses her family, through whom she defined herself in her early years. She was proud to be Afghan (not, as Hashimi notes in the novel, Afghani), a patriotism reflected in her prize-winning student essay. Her appreciation for her country’s rich history is reflected in her fascination with the ring from Ai-Khanoum. However, when the coup occurs, and Sitara realizes that Afghan soldiers turned on the president, his family, and his ministers, that betrayal destroys her sense of safety and fractures her understanding of what it means to be Afghan. She does not object when Antonia decides that her sister Aryana’s birth certificate is the way to get Sitara to safety; in fact, she takes it upon herself to locate the document, and she fully participates in her escape to Pakistan, then to the US. Without her family and her home to contextualize who she is, Sitara feels he has lost her sense of self.
When Antonia adopts her, Aryana takes Antonia’s last name, Shephard, replacing her own, Zamani. She builds a new identity as an Afghan American and a medical doctor. While it first feels strange to assume her sister’s name—rewriting her sister’s identity as well, erasing her in a sense—Aryana buries Sitara in the ruins of her past, as if Sitara never survived the coup. This distance is one way she tries to live with her grief and guilt, which continue to torment her. Taking on an entirely new name also symbolizes the way that she feels like her trauma has utterly shattered her former life and identity, making them unavailable to her.
Yet taking on new, American markers of identity introduces additional complications to Aryana’s understanding of her place in the world. The confusion that other people encounter when trying to identify Aryana’s ethnicity—a reflection of the racism and xenophobia endemic in American culture—makes it even more difficult for Aryana to claim her true ethnic and cultural identity. In the prologue, she writes that she is often questioned “[a]s if I am a species, not a person” (2). People suppose she is Greek, Italian, Lebanese, Argentinian, or Eastern European. When Adam posts a picture of himself with Aryana on his Facebook page, viewers think she is Latina, which makes Adam imagine he might be able to use her to increase his appeal across different voter demographics. When she wears a hooded jacket one day in the rain, Aryana is identified as a devout Muslim by a trio of white men who tell her to “go back” and threaten to bomb her country. They refuse to consider that Aryana could be a US citizen, just as they are; she does not look white, so she is, to them, a foreigner, an outsider. These incidents further splinter Aryana’s sense of identity, as the world around her persistently misunderstands and miscategorizes her ethnicity, culture, and history.
When Aryana decides to return to Afghanistan, she starts to reorganize the markers of her various identities into a more cohesive whole. She thinks of the US as her residence, but she calls Afghanistan her homeland. The country is rebuilding and trying to move past its wounds and scars, just as she is. This changing face of Afghanistan is captured in the character of Nasrat, the young museum director; Aryana acknowledges that there are few old men in Afghanistan, instead realizing, “This is a land of adolescence, pockmarked and developing, challenging authority and stepping into the shoes of ancestors” (424). When she returns to Kabul and speaks with a minister of the Interior, Aryana reclaims her last name of Zamani. It is a further step in claiming the fullness of her identity, which requires acknowledging all that has happened to her. She could not tell Adam her story because she did not trust him, but she tells Clay, and now she can speak of events to these strangers. Encountering Rostam is another step in Aryana’s reunion with her past. In the end, Aryana reintegrates the two parts of her identity when she feels that her family is restored to her. In the epilogue, she reflects that her family, and Kabul, will always be a part of her, even if the city or the people she knew are no longer physically present; those memories are part of her identity and will not be erased by her own grief or other people’s misunderstandings.
By Nadia Hashimi
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